


Snap

by with_beauty



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone works for Immortan Luxury Cars, F/M, Fluff, Furiosa is a photographer and Max is the model, Modeling, Photography, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:57:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4362167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/with_beauty/pseuds/with_beauty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is him?” Furiosa mutters.</p>
<p>Valkyrie’s eyes narrow at the disapproving look. “You know people are into that rugged lumberjack look nowadays.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but for a luxury car ad?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snap

**Author's Note:**

> I literally had this idea in a dream O_o It was too much fun not to turn into a story

Furiosa fiddles impatiently with her camera and glances up at Valkyrie again.

“What’s this guy’s name again?”

“Max.” The PR representative gives Furiosa a look when she sighs grumpily. “It’s not his fault that you’re always obscenely early to shoots. He has plenty of time to get here.”

Furiosa huffs and is about to retort when the door to the studio opens. A muscular man stands in the doorway, sporting the beginnings of a beard and disheveled brown hair.

“Max! Hello!” Valkyrie calls.

“This is him?” Furiosa mutters.

Valkyrie’s eyes narrow at the disapproving look. “You know people are into that rugged lumberjack look nowadays.”

“Yeah, but for a luxury car ad?”

“Work with me here. I promise he’s good.”

Furiosa grunts noncommittally as Max reaches them and puts her hand out.

“I’m Furiosa. I’ll be shooting you today.”

“Pleasure,” he mumbles, firmly shaking her hand once.

“Welcome to Immortan Luxury Cars, Max. I’m Valkyrie; we spoke on the phone.” Max nods and shakes her hand as well. “Alright, lets get you over to Miss Giddy for hair and makeup. She’s the best in the biz; you’ll love her.”

Right on cue, Miss Giddy steps out of the prep room to their left. Most of the models Furiosa has worked with are shocked by the old woman’s heavily tattooed body, the ink stretching up her neck and onto her face, but Max hardly seems fazed. He simply stretches his hand out to shake hers and mumbles the same polite, “Pleasure.”

“Alright, son, let’s get to work.”

As Max and Miss Giddy step into the prep room, Furiosa’s lighting crew walks into the studio.

“Ace!” Furiosa calls to her assistant, “Just in time.”

“Hey, boss. We wanted to be here earlier, but we got stuck in traffic.” Furiosa catches Valkyrie shaking her head out of the corner of her eye as Ace turns to the rest of the crew. “C’mon boys, let’s get set up.”

Furiosa walks with the crew to the far end of the massive studio space, where one of the cars from Immortan’s new line is parked in front of a green screen. She figures production will edit in some kind of impressive skyline after she sends them her final files. She’s never really cared much what they add in, as long as it doesn’t screw up her composition.

She supervises as her crew scurries around her, directing the placement of umbrellas and light strips and softboxes. When everything seems right, she takes a moment to take a couple of test shots of the car by itself. It’s sleek and black, and the light strips create beautiful reflections in the shiny metal. Satisfied, she gives Ace a thumbs-up. He nods back and waves the rest of the crew off.

To finish her preparation, she sits down to inspect her prosthetic arm, flexing and bending all of the joints to make sure everything is in working order. One of the reasons Furiosa liked working for Immortan Luxury Cars was the pay grade, which had allowed her to save up enough to get a high-end bionic prosthesis. She’d been absolutely shocked when Immortan himself had referred her to a well-renowned doctor, who had given her a special discount on top of the insurance bonuses and medical perks that she already received.

As she’s inspecting the joints in her thumb, she hears the door to the prep room open up.

“Furiosa!” Miss Giddy calls. “He’s ready for you!”

Furiosa stands up and immediately freezes when she sees Max. His thick hair has been artfully styled into tousled waves and his facial hair looks neat and tidy. He’s wearing a well-tailored navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt and matching tie. He looks ... good. Furiosa blinks in surprise.

As she watches, Max takes Miss Giddy’s hand again and crinkles his eyes in a kind of half-smile. She smiles back and pats his cheek.

“You’ve got a good one here, Furiosa,” she says.

Feeling more than a little off-balance, Furiosa chooses not to answer, simply motioning the man over towards her. As he walks across the expansive studio floor, she admires the way he moves. He looks powerful, but not overwhelmingly so. She detects a fairly equal mix of confidence and nerves, and a fair bit of tension. She nods to herself. Maybe she can work with that.

When he approaches, she gestures behind her to the car. “We’re going to be shooting with the new Immortan G5 Interceptor. Have you ever modeled with a car before?”

Max shakes his head. “Know my way around them, though. Used t’ be a mechanic.”

“Alright. Well, how about you hop in and we’ll feel some stuff out.”

Nodding, he steps around her to the car. He runs a reverent hand along the frame before opening the door and sliding into the front seat.

He looks instantly at ease behind the wheel. She can _definitely_ work with that.

She quickly retrieves her camera and tells him to fiddle around, do what feels natural. As he examines the controls, adjusts the rearview, grips the wheel, she takes shot after shot in quick succession. She knows she won’t use any of them for the final mock-up, but she’s found that photographing the models she works with doing things that feel normal helps build up a comfortable relationship.

After a couple minutes, Furiosa can tell that Max has started to do things more for the aesthetic value than because he feels like it. He holds certain positions for a couple seconds so that she can get a couple different angles and pretends to squint off into the distance or frown in concentration at the gearshift. She grins slightly, and when his eyes meet hers, the corners of his mouth quirk up.

“Okay, time for some serious work,” she says, standing up from her crouch next to the Interceptor’s open door. He climbs out and stands up next to her. “Do you have a playlist you usually listen to when you do shoots?”

Max hums. “Not really.”

“Mind if I plug in my iPod, then?”

He shakes his head and hums again.

Furiosa signals to Ace, who plugs the iPod into the sound system and starts the playlist she made for occasions like this. She likes to think she picked songs with the perfect mix of guitar, electronics, and bass, and Max must agree, because he immediately starts nodding his head along to the music.

“I’d like to start outside the car, if that’s okay,” Furiosa says.

Max nods and goes to stand beside the still-open door. She backs up a few paces and looks through her viewfinder.

“A little to your left, I think. Okay, good, now if you move your left foot ... Great. And your right hand ... Excellent. Look at me ...”

She snaps the photo and studies the display on her camera.

“Can I get a reflector?” she calls over her shoulder to her crew. One of the younger boys hurries over. “I want to really highlight his eyes.”

She directs the boy to kneel just out of her camera’s sightline and adjust the angle of the reflector so a ray of light brightens the area around Max’s eyes.

“Is that too bright for you, Max?”

“Just fine.”

When the next shot appears on her display, she grins. “Excellent.”

They move through several poses and are about to go around to the other side of the car when the door to the studio flies open. The boss’s son, Rictus, marches in, followed by five supermodel-pretty women. Furiosa stifles a groan. It’s the “Wives”, so called because of the supporting roles they’ve played in Immortan Luxury Car’s advertisements. In just about every ad Immortan has put out, the women have been cast as the wives, or girlfriends, or whatever, of the chosen leading man.

Furiosa walks across the studio to meet them, trying not to let her anger and annoyance show on her face.

“What is it, Rictus?”

“Dad, I mean Mr. Immortan, wants the girls in the shot.”

“Great,” she deadpans, motioning the women into the room. Rictus leers grossly as they pass, patting the last, Cheedo, on the ass. Dag drags her out of his reach, looking ready to spit.

“Get out of here, Rictus,” Furiosa says as calmly as she can manage. He looks put out, but turns to go. When the door is closed once again, she turns to the Wives.

“As much as I would like to say it’s nice to see you, it isn’t really.”

Angharad, the tall blonde at the front of the group, sighs. “Believe us, we don’t really want to be here either.”

Furiosa turns back to Max. The poor man looks completely lost.

“Ladies, this is Max. Max, meet Angharad, Toast, Capable, Dag, and Cheedo.”

Toast nods stoically and Capable manages a wave from somewhere near her hip. Cheedo just clings to Dag’s wrist. Max furrows his brow and shoots a silent question at Furiosa.

“Immortan’s had them in almost every ad we’ve ever done. I guess he wasn’t about to give that up.”

“They’re practically part of the brand image now,” Miss Giddy pipes up from where she’s poked her head out of the prep room. “C’mon ladies, you know what to do.”

As the Wives file into the prep room, Furiosa gives Max a pained look. She opens her mouth to make an apology and explain the situation, but he cuts her off with a nod, his eyes gentle. He understands.

She can’t help but rub at her scalp in frustration anyways. “I hate shooting with them like this. Like they’re props. Like they’re ... things.”

Max’s fingertips flutter briefly, but he stays where he is and doesn’t reach for her.

“Wanna ... shoot some more?” he offers. She nods gratefully and picks her camera back up.

A few minutes later, Capable emerges from the prep room, now wearing a form-fitting satiny white dress. Her lips are painted bright red and her red hair lies in perfect curls on her shoulders.

“Okay Capable, let’s see what we can do,” Furiosa says. She looks to the lighting crew again. “How about another reflector.”

Another boy brings one over, kneeling and reflecting like the first, but this time onto Capable’s face. She gives him a shy smile, and he freezes like he’s been starstruck.

“Nux, focus,” Furiosa reprimands. He ducks his head sheepishly and returns to his task with renewed concentration.

Furiosa directs Max and Capable back over to the open driver’s-side door.

“Alright Max, if you want to stand kind of like you did for the first shot. And Capable, you can lean on him a bit.”

Max holds himself stiffly as Capable leans against his side and rests her head on his shoulder.

“Max, relax,” Furiosa instructs. “You have too much tension. And Capable, why don’t you grab his lapel. Yeah, like that.”

Furiosa frowns. Max still looks like he’s bracing himself for something to explode.

“Max. Quit doing whatever you’re doing with your face.” He makes a visible effort to relax, but it doesn’t do much good. He still looks horribly tense. She sighs. “What’s the problem?”

Very carefully, Max shrugs Capable off. Almost immediately, Nux jumps up, pulling a water bottle out of his cargo pants to offer her. Max steps closer to Furiosa.

“It feels ... off,” he says quietly. “You said you didn’t like it.”

She stays silent, unsure of what to say.

He studies the floor for several seconds before continuing. “What if ... you shot _them_ as the models, and ... _I_ would be the prop.” He glances up at her nervously.

She can feel a grin tugging at her lips as she takes in the idea. “Deal,” she says.

Max’s face floods with relief.

By this time, the rest of the Wives have gathered by Capable and Nux next to the Interceptor, dressed in the white dresses that Immortan loves.

“Alright, change of plans,” Furiosa announces. Everyone looks up in surprise. “You guys are going to be the focus of the shots this time. Max is going to be your ... support.” This earns a little chuckle from the man standing behind her.

They decide that Angharad should go first. She’s dressed in a stunning long-sleeve white chiffon gown, the skirt slit up to her thigh and the neckline plunging to her waist. She climbs into the driver’s seat and grips the wheel while Max settles into the passenger side. She looks powerful, vibrant and alive. After a moment, Max carefully places a hand on her exposed thigh. Furiosa peeks out from behind her camera in surprise. He shrugs.

“Sex sells.”

Next is Toast. Her gown crisscrosses in the front, leaving her entire back exposed. The effect is exquisite, especially with her short hair, but they decide not to focus on it. Instead, she leans into the opening of the driver’s door, with Max sitting on the seat below her, his legs stretched out elegantly. He stares up at her while she gazes into the distance, a look of fierce determination etched on her face.

After Toast comes Capable. Both Max and Capable rest their right hands on the frame of the car, Capable’s covering Max’s. He stands directly behind her, his left hand holding her waist and his forehead pressed against her jaw. Her head is turned very slightly towards him, and her left hand cups the back of his head. Off-camera, Nux nearly succumbs to a coughing fit.

Finally, it’s Dag and Cheedo’s turn. They decide they want to do their photo together. They look like polar opposites, with tanned, dark-haired Cheedo sporting a long, sleek gown and pale, silver-haired Dag dressed in creamy lace, but Furiosa finds them strangely complementary. They arrange themselves on either side of Max on the hood of the Interceptor, draping their arms possessively over his shoulders. As Furiosa snaps the photograph, they have eyes only for each other.

After they’ve all finished their shots, Furiosa brings her camera over to the LED monitor screen and plugs in her SD card. Everyone gathers around, including Valkyrie, Miss Giddy, Ace, and the rest of the lighting crew. The women are absolutely delighted with their photos, engulfing each other in hugs. Even Ace cracks a smile.

Once the pandemonium has died down, the Wives convince Furiosa to go out for celebratory drinks with them and scurry away to put their normal clothes back on. Furiosa turns to Max, feeling abruptly shy.

“You’re more than welcome to come.” She glances down and then quickly back, anxious to see his reaction.

His eyes are gentle, but he shakes his head. “I better go. But, um ...” He draws a scrap of paper out of his pocket and hands it to her. “You should have this.”

As he walks out the door, she carefully unfolds the paper. Written on it is his name and phone number.

“Told you he was good,” Valkyrie whispers in her ear.

 

 

* * *

Here's how I imagined everyone's outfits:

[Max](http://i1-news.softpedia-static.com/images/news2/Tom-Hardy-Addresses-Feud-with-Charlize-Theron-on-Mad-Max-Set-438058-2.jpg) [Capable](http://cdn02.cdn.justjared.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/riley-cannes/riley-keough-amfar-2014-cannes-01.jpg) [Angharad](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2011/09/20/article-0-0DFD5FCD00000578-981_306x867.jpg) [Toast](http://photos.laineygossip.com/lifestyle/zoe-white-cannes-14may15-04.jpg) [Cheedo](http://www.gotceleb.com/wp-content/uploads/photos/courtney-eaton/mad-max-fury-road-premiere-in-hollywood/Courtney-Eaton:-Mad-Max-Fury-Road-LA-Premiere--21.jpg) [Dag](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i4ve2yt90jk/T5YY5xTGpkI/AAAAAAAAAmk/TwOlrASc1y8/s1600/936full-abbey-lee-kershaw.jpg)

[(and bonus Furiosa cuz I freaking love this picture)](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/32/3a/92/323a923485cd2ff498b9db618e4bf68b.jpg)


End file.
